


Let It Burn

by Sleepy_Fox



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Nothing actually shown though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 01:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_Fox/pseuds/Sleepy_Fox
Summary: Snapshots of Lithuania's changing experiences of Russia.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely written over a couple of years as stress relief, usually while listening to Set Fire To The Rain.

Right, left, right, left, right –  
I was so sick of snow. The way it crawled into my boots like a living creature and melted, leaving a cold wet mess. The way it looked so soft but instantly hardened on contact, ready to bruise, cut or crush.

Just like him.

I cast a frightened glance over my shoulder, certain I was being followed. The swirling snow obscured my sight. I wasn’t built for living in the Tundra – I was too small, too light. Each gust of wind knocked me back a couple of steps. It was trying to push me back to the hell-hole I was running from. My Master, on the other hand would have no trouble following me. Tall, broad-shouldered and almost impervious to the cold, he was far better at braving the weather than I.  
At least I had brought a coat with me this time.

I was learning.

The precious hours of daylight dimmed until the snowy ground and sky became one and the same, but I kept walking. I had to. If I could somehow keep going, could reach the border then maybe – just maybe for once, I would be safe.

But I doubted it.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Is nice out here, da?’  
‘Taip, Ivan, very nice.’  
And it was. Warm days like this were rare so close to winter and this one was pure perfection. Even a Royal command hadn’t prevented Ivan from spiriting me away the second my meeting with his boss was over. Not that I minded. I was far more at home out-of-doors than at court.  
‘So serious.’ I rolled over to face Ivan.  
‘Hmm? I’m sorry Vanya, what did you say?’  
‘Litva is always thinking,’ he tutted, ‘Is not healthy.’ Like the mature diplomat I was, I stuck my tongue out at him. Ivan saw this as an invitation. We spent the next couple of minutes furiously throwing grass at each other.  
‘Alright stop – stop Ivan!’ I yelped as the taller man shoved a wad of grass down my shirt. We stood looking at each other, then burst out laughing. It was too nice a day to fight.  
Ivan lay down again. He wriggled around until he found the best spot for the sun to warm his back, sighing contentedly. ‘Did you get your treaty then, Litva?’  
‘You were there Ivan,’ I chided, flicking grass from my uniform, ‘You heard what Tsar Nicolas said. Or weren’t you paying attention?’ My friend glanced away. He spoke so quietly I had to crouch next to him to hear.  
‘Nikolai does not always say what he means, or mean what he says. Is a very – Russian - trait.’ There was an uneasy silence.  
I stretched out next to my friend, pushing aside thoughts of politics. The River Volga burbled somewhere in the distance. Exhaustion began to creep up on me.  
‘Litva must go home soon, da?’ There was a touch of sadness to Ivan’s voice.  
‘Taip, Ivan. Otherwise who will harvest all the rye fields?’  
‘You could stay –‘  
‘I don’t think a Russian winter would agree with me Vanya,’ I murmured sleepily. We had both decided a long time ago that I didn’t have the necessary bulk to survive a Slavic winter.  
‘Will you be taking Pol’sha back with you?’ I grit my teeth.  
‘Unfortunately yes.’ Ivan laughed.  
‘Perhaps I could take care of him? Put him on another train? You would not have to listen to him talking, then.’ If I weren’t so tired, I would have given it serious thought. A large hand rested on my shoulders, rubbing away some of the tension that had built up over my month in Russia. Dimly, I heard my name being called. Sleep closed over me.

 

‘Liet?’  
‘Liet!’  
‘Shhh not so loud, Raivis!’  
‘He’s not here. Maybe upstairs...?’  
Footsteps and voices faded.  
Of course I’m here, I thought, Where else would I be?  
Darkness stole over again.

 

The ground beneath me was hard and decidedly un-grass like. I didn’t know exactly how long I had been there but judging from the stiffness of my joints, I guessed a couple of hours at least.  
‘You could have at least woken me up when the sun set, Vanya’ I grumbled. The expected apology never came. I sighed. Ivan could be so careless sometimes – one of the reasons why diplomacy with him and his boss was so difficult.

I gave my shoulders an experimental twitch. Hell it hurt! The pain alone almost dragged me back into the darkness. I lay as still as possible waiting for my senses to stop reeling. My shirt was wet; had it rained? The dampness felt wrong though.  
‘Ivan?’ The word stuck; barely a croak. My heart beat faster. Awareness was stealing back. I tried to move my hands underneath me, to push myself off the ground.  
The muscles didn’t respond. Slowly, reluctantly, I opened my eyes.  
There was no grass. Instead, plush green carpet seemed to stretch on forever. Something solid – a wall? – pressed against my side. I blinked.

A hallway?

Pain of all shapes and sizes registered in my brain: small pinpricks in the arm my head rested on, a sharp stabbing my chest with each breath, a blurred pounding that started in my head and ran along every nerve, spiking across my shoulders and back, a twisting nausea in my gut.  
Although that last one could have been panic. I wasn’t sure.

With an effort that made my eyes water I lifted my head from my arm and let it fall back to the ground, breathing in the minty carpet. It hurt. At least blood was flowing to my arm again. Blood was also coming from my nose as well. ‘and I spent so long cleaning that damn carpet, too’.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Ah, Litva, just the person I wanted to see.’ Ivan waved me over to his desk; offered me a drink which I politely refused. He peered at me with narrowed eyes.  
‘You will go over some documents for the next meeting with the Allies, da?’ When I showed no objections, he unlocked one of the desk drawers and spread its contents over the table.

‘Maps?’ I asked. Surely he didn’t need my help with these – he was second-in-command of the entire Soviet Army – he knew how to read maps. Ivan chuckled.  
‘Litva is my secretary, da? He should know where places are when he writes them into speeches. Now, what do you think of them?’ I glanced over the papers.

Red, far too much red.

The solid line marking Russia’s borders had engulfed its neighbours Ukraine and Belarus, my brothers Latvia and Estonia, even parts of Finland. My own country once green had been coloured over in communist red, turning it to a purple bruise on the map. To the west lay the blue coloured German and Prussian Empires. The borders had changed so much in the past few years I could scarcely recognise them.  
Then I saw what was wrong. It was such a simple yet obvious mistake I couldn’t help laughing, drawing Ivan's eyes to me.

‘Sir,’ I pointed to a blank space on the map, ‘You forgot to draw in Poland.’ Ivan gaze flickered down to where I was pointing, then back up to meet mine.  
‘No I haven’t,’ he replied evenly. I looked at the empty Poland-shaped spot.  
‘But sir -,’  
‘Watch, Litva.’ I fell silent. Something in his tone unnerved me. Calmly he dipped his pen into the pot of ink marked ‘red’ and began to draw.  
‘The NAZIS have enough firepower to push their way east and Hitler is stupid enough to try and invade us,’ Ivan flicked the pen nib across the map. A red streak cut through Poland.  
‘However, their resources will start running out about here. Even if they reach Warsaw, they’ll have to dig in until they can resupply. We’ll set up a blockade and go on the offensive before that can happen.’  
‘Sir, there’s no way the Polish will let you – or any of the Red Guards into their country. They don’t trust you.’  
_And why should they?_ I thought, _They’ve seen what you do to your prisoners._

Ivan grinned.

‘Litva is right. Pol’sha will not trust _us_ ,’ I winced at that, ‘unless they have no other choice.’ He drew another streak through the map, this time in Prussian blue.  
‘So we’ll just let Germany be content with one third of Poland, da? Then Pol’sha will _want_ us to interfere.’

I stared at the map in horror. In the future there would be no Poland. There would be no ‘Baltic States’. There would be no Lithuania. The boundaries would be re-written until there was only the German Empire on one side and the mighty Soviet Union on the other.

‘Litva?’

I backed away from the visions of my future, my knees buckling as I felt the wall behind me. This couldn’t be happening. He had promised to protect us for gods sake, not destroy us!

‘I thought we had a peace treaty – a non-aggression pact?’ I stammered. Ivan watched me curiously for a moment. Then, to my amazement, he laughed. He laughed so hard that tears ran down his cheeks, that he gasped for breath. I covered my ears to try and block it out.  
‘Ah, my Litva is so innocent,’ he chuckled, wiping his eyes and reaching for an open bottle on his desk. After a long drink, he replaced the bottle and, walking over, pulled me roughly to my feet.  
‘Of course we have a peace treaty, a – what did you call it? Non-aggression pact?’  
‘Yes, but – ‘ He tilted my face upwards, the better to see my expression.  
‘I promise I will never break that pact, Lithuania. Never. I won’t let anyone else hurt you or take advantage of you. You asked for protection, and I have given it, da?’  
‘Yes sir, and I’m very grateful sir.’ The words tumbled out automatically, lest I offend him with silence.  
‘Good.’ Ivan nodded once to himself then finally – finally – released his hold on me. ‘Pull yourself together, Lietuva,’ he said, giving me a once-over glance, ‘then we’ll keep going on these papers.’  
‘Actually – ‘ I winced, hearing my voice tremble, ‘Actually I think I’d rather finish them on my own.’  
‘...oh?’  
‘W-well its not that hard and I’m sure you have better things to do than watch me do paperwork.’ Ivan hummed softly, thinking.  
‘Very well. You can go. Come and find me if you don’t understand something, da?’ He directed me to two enormous boxes of files and held the door open for me as I staggered past. ‘Make sure they’re done by lunch time, Litva.’ Ivan stalked back into his office, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

It took ages to get all of Ivan’s paperwork back to my tiny office. By the time I sat down I’d thoroughly cursed not only Comrade Braginski and his ability to palm off his duties to his pet Lithuanian, but also cursed the entire country of Russia, communist ideals, Hitler – for making my current job seem like the best choice I had, cursed paperwork in general and even Poland – just for the hell of it. At least the papers couldn’t be bugged.  
A quick glance at the clock told me I had roughly four hours before Ivan emerged from his office demanding food and, more importantly vodka. That gave me two and a half hours to finish his paperwork and just over an hour to prepare and cook something distinctly Russian for the household. If I was lucky one of the other Baltic lackeys would help me with lunch and I would have a couple of minutes to myself. Not likely though. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and sighed. There was no use worrying about the future when there was the present to be dealt with. Pushing myself up straighter, I unlocked the first box and picked up a couple of folders from the top. A slip of paper tore free and spiralled towards the floor. I stopped then, in what I hoped was a casual, un-suspicious manner, leaned over and snagged it.  
It had been written in spidery Cyrillic. I struggled to translate the rival language into my native Lithuanian. As I read, my hands began to shake. Not all of it was legible – but it was enough.

_“Citizen Braginski,_  
_Orders have been carried out in accordance with the Russification Act._  
_Government dissolved. Rebels scattered, but fired first shot. Tovarisch Antipov K.I.A_  
_Will control region by end of month._  
_Awaiting orders concerning prisoners._  
_\- 5th division People’s Soviet Army. Station: Kaunas; Lithuania._

My entire body started to shake. I couldn’t breathe right. I felt sick. The letter had been dated two months previously. My homeland had been occupied by enemy troops for two months and Ivan had deliberately kept me in the dark. Kept me as his _pet_.  
This meant war.


End file.
